Backward
by AngstyAcy
Summary: What happens if Misa goes back in time and meets herself, Light, and L in Old England?


* * *

Author's Note: Aha ha ha ha... I'm sorry! This new idea popped into my brain sometime ago, so now I really have to write it. Anyway, I will update Preordained very soon. Hope you read this one too! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN DEATH NOTE. OR THE BOOK HINTED ON HERE.

* * *

Backward

Misa tapped her foot impatiently against the cold floor. What was taking all these people so long? They had been sitting in that strange metal room for almost an hour now, staring at an equally metal box with a chair in the middle and several levers with unknown uses. The mostly white-robed people called it the 'something machine'. Sound machine? Light machine? Washing machine? Misa didn't know, didn't care. She just wanted her manager to return from talking excitedly to one of the people in white and tell her she could go home. Home to see Light-kun again.

Misa fought a grin from breaking out of her face. If she smiled, it would most probably encourage the chattering young man beside her who had been trying unsuccessfully for the past half hour to get her attention. Misa didn't care for him, not to mention the increase in noise he would make. She didn't care for anybody except Light-kun, and his hazel eyes that always looked at her, and always with a slight glaze on them, as if he were dreaming. Misa squirmed in her seat, her heart beating rapidly in anticipation of beholding those lovely eyes again.

If she could only go home, preferably now! Irritated, she fluffed her hair and edged away from the man, who had only leaned forward with her slight action. She was only there because she was the most popular model and actress in Japan. The people here needed her publicity in presenting that stupid machine to the public. So she was, currently, the guest of honor. Well, that was what her manager had said.

"Ladies and gentlemen," a man suddenly called out to the assembly, as a few clicks resounded in the chamber. _Good thing_, Misa thought, _there are journalists here_. At least her appearance wasn't wholly a waste of time.

"Well," he continued. "We have been talking about this remarkable new machine, and we haven't been paying attention at all to the most important person in the room. Amane Misa-sama," and he looked in her direction apologetically, and Misa fluttered her lashes, flashed him a huge, fake smile, and waved prettily, "thank you for coming to this conference. We assure you, your presence is of utmost importance to us. As a sign of our appreciation, we would like you to come up and see the machine up close first, and we will introduce you to usage of this machine. If you would please, Amane-sama." And he gestured to her to come to his side by the machine.

Misa looked in the direction of her manager, and he was almost jumping up and down in enthusiasm, frantically waving his hands for her to move. Rolling her eyes, Misa gracefully rose and sashayed to the man and the washing machine.

"Thank you, Amane-sama." The man bowed to her and met her eyes steadily. "Please direct your attention to these levers. These levers have various uses, and this one," he started, pointing to a lever with a green handle in the middle of the box, "and its multiple rolling buttons control the time. It is pushed once forward, and once backward, and the machine would already start to function." He glared at her when Misa yawned loudly and started pursing her lips again and again.

"Another feature of this machine," he doggedly continued, ignoring the sucking sounds coming from Misa's lips, "is the moving. It can immediately move its cargo to another location, though it is random at best and still experimental." Smack, smack. "Unless directed to go random, though, once the machine is used again, it will take its cargo back to its original location. It is controlled by this lever." His fist shaking, he pointed to a lever with a red handle beside the green-handled lever.

"These two," he said, looking up at her with barely concealed contempt, "are the most important levers here. While the others control the internals of the machine, these two are the real deals. Would you like to take a closer look at them?" He motioned her forward with a flick of his hand.

Misa approached the machine, uninterested and barely paying attention when her foot tripped over one of the cables attached to the machine and fell forward with arms outstretched straight into the machine. Amidst shouts and running, she blearily opened her eyes in confusion and tried to right herself, falling over when her hand connected with two of the levers. She dragged one of them back to raise her body upright and sit properly on a chair in the metal box she had only noticed just then.

Looking up, Misa saw the man who explained with a horrified look on his face. She opened her mouth to ask why he was looking at her as if the world was about to end, when everything suddenly blurred around her, and she was moving in circles, round and round and round until she was dizzy and nauseous. _Oh no_, Misa thought, only barely holding in her vomit, _there goes my salad lunch_. _And I had so loved it_.

It was getting cold, and she was only wearing a short black skirt, black stockings and boots, and a sleeveless shirt. Shivering, she tried to keep herself from lurching, and held onto the chair for dear life.

Suddenly, it was over. Misa looked around, and was startled to find herself not in a metal room, but outside on a beautiful warm morning with trees and flower bushes around her and the singing of birds. Cautiously, she raised her hands and ran them through her hair, finding it tangled and hard. Dismayed, she stomped out of the metal box, kicked it once, and tried to salvage her destroyed coiffure.

"Stupid little machine. I can't believe it did this to me," she muttered, wincing as she came across a particularly knotted-up lock of hair. "Maybe I better try to find a comb from someone here."

Turning around, she stopped dead, her mouth hanging open and her arms falling to her sides.

In front of her stood _a person who looked exactly like she did_, wearing a puffed-up dress and with a hairstyle that she had only seen in her fashion teacher's books on historical fashion in England, and mirroring the exact same pose she was currently engaged in.

Her mind was in a haze, and Misa tried to say something, but her mouth wouldn't work and her voice failed.

Frantically, she tried to remember anything, to put some order in her mind and help her deal with this… this imposter before her.

_Alright_, Misa panted mentally, _I fell into the machine and pushed those levers. I was bored, and was supposed to go home and see Light-kun, but I had to go to this event because they needed to introduce the machine to the public into instant popularity, and they needed me because the machine was…_

Misa's train of thought came to a sudden halt. She felt faint, her knees buckled beneath her, and her weight pressed her to the ground. As the world grew dark around her, only one sentence kept repeating over and over in her head, sending her over the edge.

_It was a time machine_.

* * *

A.N. Whoopie! Please review!


End file.
